One
by crazy-acting
Summary: Founders era. Centred around their lives and common history. Before founding Hogwarts. The prologue basically tells everything, except about the pairing Salazar Slytherin x Rowena Ravenclaw. Rather dark fic, and this is rated M for a reason! Don't be disgusted by the shitty summary, I'm very bad at this...
1. Prologue

A Familiar Taste of Poison

**Prologue**

* * *

The flames danced high in the ink black sky of the winter night. They croaked and hissed as they burned everything. They burned the wooden logs, they burned the ropes, they burned the flesh. They were so fascinating that the screams were almost easy to ignore, to forget. But one pair of eyes could not get off the dying woman. Their owner could not rejoice himself from the painful wails, from the horrible sight that he bore.

Hidden behind a pile of branches, the boy was watching everything. He saw the woman twist desperately as she burned, he saw the crowd laughing, singing and dancing in front of the pyre, as if it were a bonfire. His fists clenched as he choked on his own tears. Even if the noise of the pain and joy was loud, he would not get caught, because they knew who he was.

Her son.

Her young son.

Before climbing on the pile of wood, his mother had given him one last look of mixed love, fear and despair. She had screamed: "Go!" But he had not left. Surely she had not wanted him to bear this horrible spectacle, and get caught too. But now, she didn't even have the strength to look at him, as she only seemed to see pain. And flames.

His hands were trembling and his entire being was shaken by shivers of fear and sorrow. He couldn't help but look, look as his mother died, unable to do a single thing. The guilt built inside of him, but he was paralysed. Suddenly, a harsh voice called:

"Look! It's her son!"

He was startled and jumped on his feet. He looked at where the scream came from, and saw three men running at him, extending their hands to catch him. He began to run, his legs still quite unable to move. Their shadows danced at the light of the flames, and his tears and sobs were left behind him as he ran as fast as he could. He escaped from the world of light and plunged into the darkness of the forest, hoping to find a place to hide. Unfortunately, he was still followed, even if the sound of running resumed to careful striding.

He hid behind a dead tree trunk, but they heard him move. He burst out of his hiding place, but one of the men had a bow and arrows. The first time he shot, he only hit a tree. The boy began to run again, diving deeper and deeper in the forest. At one moment, he heard the chanting noise of a stream. But the archer was quick, and as his eyes accustomed to the darkness, he shot a second time.

With a scream, the boy fell to the ground. He wasn't able to move for the reason that the arrow had skewered his leg. In pain, he crawled at the side of the track as the hunters ran to him. In a last excruciating effort, he pulled himself out of the way, and fell in the stream. The water carried him a few meters away, under a natural dirt bridge, and he disappeared from sight.

"Think he's dead?" snorted a man.

"Dunno, I saw him fall, then I lost him. And you, Egor, did you kill him?" said the other one.

"I saw him fall too." answered Egor. "But I can't be sure. We must search." he simply said, apparently less dumb than his companions.

They roamed the forest for half of the night, but didn't find him. When the moon had begun to go down again, they decided to go back to their village.

"We will look for the body tomorrow," said Egor. "Now rest, my good men."

The boy had heard everything. He was in horrible pain, but he felt less and less conscious. The water rocked him, like his mother used to do. His leg stung as if it was slowly being torn to shreds, as the arrow was still in it. As he began to drift into a much darker place than this world, his mind chanted a name. _Egor. Egor. Egor_. He would never forget that name. He would never forget that night, where he lost his mother and almost lost his life. He thought of her, still screaming or maybe already dead. She had lasted longer than the previous, of course. For she was better.

His eyes closed themselves slowly, one in the water and one in the air. _Egor_. He thought. He swore he would find that man. He swore he would kill that man. And if he could find others like him, he would kill them too. He would burn them like they did to so many other witches and wizards, he would give them a taste of their own medicine. Despite of what they said, his mother had not deserved to die because she was a witch. Neither did he. Yes, he was also a wizard. Son of a wizard and of a witch. He was Salazar Slyhterin. And those men would die screaming.

~o~

Young Godric was holding his mother's hand while they were passing through the dark woods. The young boy was scared of the high and dark trees, which looked even scary in the morning. He looked down at his feet: he was trying not to crush the watery moss and the early flowers that were peeking after the winter. Spring was almost blooming, and the sweet scents that were beginning to appear in the nature were a gift to Godric.

"Mother, can I look at that funny tree?" he asked in a little, amused voice.

"Go, son." said his mother, chuckling.

Godric carefully risked a step or two still holding her hand, then instantly dropped it to run to the "funny tree". It's bark was dark, engorged with water, and some branches were twisting without structure, which had made him call the tree funny.

"Careful, Godric!" called his mother, worried by her adventurous son. Effectively, he had began to climb on the branches, sometimes his foot slipped.

The fresh morning air was softly blowing on his face, and his cheeks and nose turned red. Blinking his eyes many times, which had gone watery because of the humidity, he looked at the river. He saw an undefined shape, that had clearly nothing to do in the forest.

"Mother!" he called. "I think there's a dead animal over there, or a person, I can't see very well." he said, pointing at the stream.

While he climbed down, the woman walked quickly towards the place he had pointed. She began to distinguish the body behind the high herbs before the stream, and when she came at its level, she gasped in surprise.

"Godric, quick! Come, my boy!" she hastily called.

Godric ran fast, almost slipped on some mossy stone, then saw the boy. His mother had dragged him out of the water, and sushed him when he suggested giving him water. He clearly had enough overnight...

As the boy began to cough, his mother lifted him up.

"Are you alright?" she whispered in a kind voice.

She waited for him to open his eyes, then murmured:

"What are you doing there, in that stream... What is your name, my boy?"

He looked at her with eyes filled of terror.

"He won't speak, mother. I think he's frightened." said Godric.

"I can see that very well, thanks Godric." she replied.

The boy began to mutter in a voice shaken by fear.

"Are you... Are you like them?"

"Like who, child?"

"The monsters... The monsters..." he repeated, quivering or cold, and maybe of fear.

Godric looked at his mother in astonishment.

"Which monsters?" he asked.

Salazar didn't answer. He only showed his leg to them.  
Godric's mother let out a gasp of surprise.

"By Taranis*, who did that?!"

No answer came out, and she knew.

"The monsters..." she blew out.

Godric's heart rate began to go up. He clawed to his mother's cape.

"Mother... We must leave..." he was looking at the arrows stinging the bark of some trees. This boy clearly had been chased.

"Not without him."

She took the young boy in her arms, while he let out a silent hiss of pain.

"Boy, please, what is your name?" she pleaded.

He looked at her with sad eyes, that were far too old for his age.

"Salazar. Salazar Slytherin."

* * *

_So, this was the prologue of a story that's going to be long and complicated. As always, I hope you have appreciated, and I would be the happiest person in the world if you enjoyed my story! Please leave some reviews, they make the writing easier and more pleasant._

_*Taranis is the Celtic god of thunder. Even if this is set in Middle-Ages, I assumed wizards still kept some Celtic gods and culture. You're going to learn more on Godric's family in further chapters._

_Love._


	2. Fire and Bitter Goodbyes

**Chapter One -** **Fire and Bitter Goodbyes **

* * *

"Brother, come!" shouted a young man.

From the bushes emerged the one he called. He had messy dark hair and was smiling evilly.

"Godric, don't play with me! You're going to lose." he chuckled.

"Are you kidding me? I'm the best at this, Sal'. Come on." Godric answered.

"Don't call me that." snapped Salazar. "But if you want to play, then I'll play." His mouth twisted into a grin of triumph.

Godric began to run out of the woods, laughing loudly, as Salazar chased him, throwing some spells and curses at him.

"Impedimenta!" shouted Salazar.

Godric jumped right in time to avoid the spell, and he climbed on a roof of stone bricks.

"You're so slow, brother! I am ashamed to have with me a slug... Or a snail." Godric mimicked reflecting on the problem when a hex hit him in the chest, making him fall from the roof.

"Aguamenti!" had cast Salazar.

A jet of water had sprung from his wand, making Godric lose his balance and fall in the herbs. He burst out of there, still jolly, his hair wet and droplets of water falling on his cape.

"Come on, brother! You can do better! Come on, _Sal'_..." teased Godric.

"Shut up, you filth!" hissed Salazar in a playful way.

He chased him again in the field. They ran like that for a very long time, playing cat and mouse. That's what they always did: Godric teased Salazar, and the one could not help reacting by being angry, amused or annoyed. Most of the time, he ran after him like he did on that day, practising the spells they learnt at their lessons.

"Boys!" called a feminine voice from a window. "We're having dinner!"

At that word, Godric ran to the stone castle, forgetting his teasing and his games. He was closely followed by Salazar, though this one was motivated more by the books he could read after dinner than by the dinner itself. As expected, Godric ate like he needed food for three, and Salazar finished his plate quickly to evade to the library. He had discovered an interesting book about Northern England and Scotland, and the famous wizards that lived there. He had for ambition to become one of the greatest wizards of the time, if not the greatest. Magic was everything to him, and since he had begun to learn it, he had always wanted to know more and more.

He heard some steps behind the door, then it flew open.

"Brother!" called Godric in a playful tone. "There's still light outside, come and play!"

"Not now, Godric." dreamily answered Salazar at the face popping from the door.

"Sal'..." he teased.

"Godric, I'm reading! You should do the same, I wonder if you can even read..." said Salazar, closing his book in a loud thud.

"Who says I can't read?" asked Godric, attacked.

"Me." answered Salazar in the same playful tone.

Godric began to fidget, waiting for the tension to build.

"And you're as dumb as a cow." tried Salazar as an insult. He had a wicked smile, and began to run out just before Godric's hex could hit him.

And they were outside again, playing that game of theirs, only exchanging roles for once.

"Expelliarmus!" shouted Godric.

"Protego!" answered Salazar with his wand.

He raised his wand above his head.

"Incarcerous!" he hissed.

Ropes burst from the soil and tied themselves around Godric's ankles, causing him to fall on the ground. He seemed annoyed.

"It's not fair to use that spell! I don't even master it yet..." he whined.

"Your enemies won't wait for you to master spells to fight you." replied Salazar in a mature tone. "And me neither."

With a grunt, Godric faced the ropes: "Incendio."

Lecherous flames swirled around the ropes, burning them. Godric quickly took his feet away and stood again, only to find a paralysed Salazar with a livid face.

"Never... Use that charm..." he whispered.

"What, you don't master it yet? I thought you didn't care." teased Godric. But Salazar wasn't up for playing any more.

"I'm going to bed." he said as he left, his robes flying after him in a twirl of dark velvet.

"It's not even night yet!" yelled Godric after him.

"I don't care." spat Salazar.

He escaped from the park, and ran the stairs that led to his room. He closed the heavy wooden door after him, stripped as the speed of light, and buried himself in his covers. He lit a candle, took his book, and lied on his elbows to read. He ignored the repeated knocks on his door, probably from Godric.

"Sal'? Sal'?"

He got no answer.

"... Salazar?"

Godric finally left, leaving him alone. Salazar despised that spell, he hated fire. As the images came to his mind and filled him with foggy confusion, he shook his head and tried to concentrate harder on his reading. He tried to ignore the memories that haunted him every night since he was rescued by Etain Gryffindor. He couldn't remember much of that night, since he was badly injured and in a critical state.

The woman had nursed him back to health, using herbs and healing spells. During his recovery, he had told his story to her: his mother was a witch, daughter of a very powerful nobleman, and also a wizard. While she was still a young woman, she fell pregnant, and her father banished her out of his castle, as he had enough sons to carry his legacy. He had only given to her a sack of gold to begin at life, and not die in poverty.

She had built a small house in a Muggle village, attempting to live a peaceful life and forget about her misfortunes. After she gave birth to him, they had lived peacefully for eleven years, since that day. At the local market, a man had tried to steal money from her sack. She cut his cheek by mistake, but everyone there saw it was by magic. They had taken her and had burned her following the witch burning rituals. Salazar was seen, and chased by three men. They had hunted him through the forest, but he had found a way to save himself.

Since that day, Etain Gryffindor had raised him like her own son. He was the same age as Godric, just a few months younger. He had never mentioned Egor though. It was his secret. His man. It was his quest to fulfil, and his only. Not even Godric, who had grown like a brother to him, could know.

Salazar shivered over his book. He could definitely not keep on reading, so he put it back on his table. Looking at the ceiling for a long time, lost in his memories, he finally blew out the candle. The darkness invaded his room, as did the bitter dreams of revenge.

~o~

Panic flowed through Rowena as she ran up the stairs. She burst in her mother's room, in tears and pale.

"Mother!" she wailed.

A trembling hand reached out to her.

"What is it, my child?" asked a weak voice.

Her mother, Elayne Ravenclaw, was laying in a large white bed. She had been sick for months and no one knew what to do, since the Muggle ways to cure were very primary. And no one knew of lady Ravenclaw's condition, except her daughter, who was a witch herself. Lord Ravenclaw was long gone, maybe he was dead, no one knew. That left in that big castle only the daughter, the wife, and a few servants, but none of them were enough to fill all the empty space. And most of them were afraid lady Ravenclaw was soon to leave them. Rowena cursed incompetence. She cursed ignorance.

"Mother!" she cried again.

She held a piece of white cloth in her hand, with a small stain of dark red on it. She handed it to lady Elayne.

"Oh..." a little smile spread across the woman's lips.

"You're fine, dear. It's nothing. You're just..."

A loud cough interrupted her. She had coughed in her hand, where there was blood. She wiped it on her covers as if it was nothing.

"Mother... Are you feeling right?" worried Rowena.

"It's fine, it's fine... But you, Rowena, are blossoming into a beautiful woman. It's a wonderful thing, but a hard thing too... You must..."

Another cough cut her words.

"... You must stay strong, as it is hard to be a woman in this world... But I'll be by your side..." she said in a coarse voice.

"I'll be by your side..." She repeated.

She lied on the covers, and closed her eyes. Her hands stayed still and she coughed no more.

"... Mother?" said Rowena in a little voice.

Realisation struck her.

"Mother!" she screamed. "Mother!"

She weakly took her wrist, checking her pulse like she had read in books. Nothing was pumping under her fingers.

"Mother..." she was not screaming any more, she was only sobbing silently, letting her head fall over her mother's hand, clutching to it.

Her nails dug in the still fresh flesh. The tears slowly rolled down her cheeks and stained the cloth were her blood was spilled.

"I am only... thirteen... Mother... You can't leave me... Not now..." she cried. Her muffled sobs were getting lost in the bed covers. She was only discovered at morning, her head buried into her mother's arms, half sobbing, half sleeping. She had been taken away from her mother's body by the servants, wailing, kicking, screaming in despair.

She had sworn to herself that she would never be the victim of ignorance again. She would do all she could to know the more things possible, and to spread this knowledge as a defence and as a weapon. She never wanted to suffer again.

* * *

_I hope this has not gone too badly... Anyway, I'm proud I have finished this rather early. It's not that interesting yet, but they're going to meet in next chapter, which is going to be pretty long..._

_I also tried to proofread, but as it is 1:30 am, I am not very conscious. ^_^ _

_I hope you liked it, and feel free to give some feedback._


	3. You shall not weep

**Chapter Two - You shall not weep**

* * *

The sun was quickly ending his run behind a snowy hill. The dying light faded over the inn of the small village and the last people that had risked themselves out by this biting cold were running in their homes. Two men slipped in the stables of the inn before a gust of snow closed the heavy doors behind them.

The tallest man was holding the rein of a slim and muscular ebony horse, and the smaller but bolder man had a large, strong ocher horse. They both tied their horses to the best place in the stables, meaning next to a torch, and far from the holes in the wall that blew cold air.

The inn was not very crowded, as they had seen it in the stables: apart from their horses, there was only one light grey tied in a corner. The men went to the innkeeper and the red-haired one asked:

"Hello, brave man. We are looking for a place to spend the night, and we fell on your establishment. Do you have a spare room for the both of us?" asked Godric.

"I'm sorry, I only have two rooms with one bed. The others are taken. Here, have the keys." he briefly answered.

He handed them the keys, and Salazar looked around them: how could the rooms be booked? There was absolutely no one in the place! Only a hooded man in the corner was silently drinking his beer, and a young woman was eating her meal at a small wooden table. Salazar's eyes lingered on her petite figure: she had dark hair falling as a curtain on her face, but he had the time to see it before it was hidden by her curls. She had thin traits of a rather noble port, such as a long thin nose that gracefully unified her face. Her mouth was a slim line too, of a natural bright red color. But what had first caught his interest were her bright blue eyes, shining with intelligence and wit. They had the exact color of a dark sea-side sky before a storm. Suddenly her head spun at him, and his eyes drifted away, taking his own keys from the man's hands. The girl stood on her feet and climbed the stairs, probably to her own room.

"We'll have a meal too," asked Godric to the man.

With a grunt, he directed them to a table at the side of the room, just next to the hooded man. They waited approximately an hour before the innkeeper came with something edible. When they finished what was considered as dinner, they went to their rooms. Salazar still thought about the mysterious woman, and was slightly amazed that she had finished her plate.

"Goodnight, Godric." said Salazar hastily. He was eager to jump in a good (maybe not good in that case) bed and read a bit, maybe, because he couldn't even remember the last time he had been alone. During the last two months, they had been together roaming Northern England looking for some special objects: the Deathly Hallows. Salazar had read about it and had made the greatest research possible on the subject, and with Godric's help, they decided that they existed. They had left the Gryffindor castle with the ambition of becoming the two greatest wizards of their time. Salazar secretly hoped to be better than Godric, because he believed himself to be the most worthy of them. Godric had not studied as much as him, and had spent more time practicing sword fighting than magic. And he had a soft spot for Muggles, which Salazar had never quite understood.

He took his cape off and put it on a chair. He took his wand and put it on the table, to have it on sight. His wand was the most important thing to him to this day. He began to strip off his shirt when he heard a thump against the wall of the room. He suddenly stopped everything he was doing, and didn't move any muscle. Another thump broke the silence. The most silently possible, he took his wand and opened the door without a creak. These noises couldn't come from Godric's room, which was on the other side, and his brother would have never heard these, as he slept as deeply as a bear. Salazar stretched out his arm, pressed himself the wall and opened the door by muttering: "Alohomora."

His naked torso shivered against the chilly air that went out of the room. He slipped himself inside but he didn't see anything, as it was pitch dark. A muffled scream came from the corner, and suddenly, he saw:  
The hooded man that was having dinner at the side of the dining room was crouching in the corner of the bedroom, and hadn't even heard Salazar come in. His hands were fighting with someone that was under him. The silhouette only let out muffled cries of despair, as one of his hands was on her mouth. Salazar recognised the beautiful girl he had seen earlier and suddenly became angry. As the man tried to pull her robes over her head, Salazar shouted:

"Stupefy!"

A red light shot from his wand and hit the man in the back. He was projected at the other side of the room and fell to the floor, not moving any more. Salazar immediately looked at the woman, still not saying a word. She was curled on herself, crying silently. He wondered what he had already done to her. She slowly lifted her head up to look at him. She didn't even murmur a thank you, which insulted Salazar in a way. He could feel she was not ungrateful, but she was definitely not showing enough. She pointed to a small desk at the other side of the room. Salazar went over them, and what he saw there made his heart jump in his chest. A thin stick of wood was lying on it.

He immediately took it and gave it to the woman, now detailing her with curious eyes. She rose to her feet, still shuddering and shaking from the attack.

She pointed her wand at the inanimate shape of the man. She held to the wall so that her legs shook a bit less. Salazar saw her thin lips form a word, then a silvery light came out of the tip of her wand. The light wrapped itself around the man's body and entered his mouth. When she finished the spell, she shoved the wand under her robes, decided never to leave it away again.

Salazar was still analysing her from above. When she turned to him, she muttered the so waited: "Thank you."

When she took her cape, apparently her only stuff, and was going to pass the door, Salazar stopped her by placing a hand on her arm. She jumped away from his touch.

"You're not leaving, witch."

To these words, she shivered.

"If you think you can stop me from it. I shall leave, wizard." she spat at him silently.

She was defiant in her own way. Even if Salazar felt she was not at her place, he kind of admired that behaviour.

"I mean no harm to you, my lady. Or whatever should I call you. I'm just..." he placed himself in the gap of the door. "intrigued by you."

She looked at the floor.

"Look, we are both wizards and that's great. But I would be grateful if you told this to no one, you understand? I can't allow myself to be caught by Muggles..." she had pronounced the last word with disgust. Salazar was immediately drawn to this.

"I promise you I won't say a thing. I just want to talk, that's all. Come, lets go to my room. I don't want to bear that sight," he said, gesturing in the direction of the man. "Come." he said again.

He put a gentle hand in her back, but was not surprised to see her shiver again under his touch. They went to his room, which he magically locked. He lit a candle and let her put her cape on the chair, where his own clothes lied.

"Sit." he ordered, pointing to the bed.

At first she looked insulted, but she still sat. Salazar turned the chair to face her, but he saw she was biting her lip to blood. Suddenly, she turned her head away. Then he knew she was crying. It was not the ugly kind of crying that a child allows himself to draw attention to him, no. It was more secret, silent. Private. He felt like he intruded himself by strength into her personal space, and did nothing. He let her cry, her face turned at the wall.

"S... Sorry!" she gasped in her tears. "I... I can't... S-Stop..." she put her hands on her face out of shame.

He decided to make a move. He placed a strong hand on her shoulder and pressed it.

"That man will never harm you again." he said rather gruffly.

She tried to breathe, but it was rather hard. Her breath was immediately cut by her sobs and her chest was rising and lowering itself at an alarming speed.

"I am sorry..." she gasped. "I am so sorry... I didn't mean to... Break like that... Like a weak..." she did not finish her sentence. It was too hard.

Salazar had a low chuckle.

"You're apologising because you're crying after being attacked by a depraved Muggle. I think that's ridiculous."

She threw him a glare.

"You're much better than that. Don't cry for this man." he simply said. "He is scum."

She lowered her eyes again. His words had had little effect on her, but she was obviously reflecting on them.

"It's just..." she tried to breathe again. "It's just he was... So strong... And I felt weak... My wand... It was not with me I- I had left it... Like a stupid girl..." she closed her eyes tight.

He slowly stood up and got nearer to her. He knew it was a difficult approach, and tried to be as gentle as possible. He lowered a hand to her head and stroked her hair kindly. She froze under his touch, as expected. She was still shocked by her encounter with the man and her eyes were shut as tears streamed down her cheeks. He was tense but tried not to show it: it would not help her to calm down. It was difficult for him to find comforting words, so he kept on slowly stroking her dark hair. He enjoyed the feeling of his fingers burying into the warm hair and brushing her scalp, though he knew she was not totally comfortable with it. He stopped and stood up, deciding to leave her alone.

"Wait," she mumbled. "Please, be kind, and stay." her voice was timid and fragile, but she clearly wanted him to stay. So he did.

He sat again, but this time he was next to her.

"If you want we can... Talk of this." he tried.

"I don't know, it's rather pathetic..." she said. "I... I know you're doing this on purpose, you're not interested in this... I know it, it's obvious..."

She had stopped crying, but he would've preferred she kept on like this. She was very disturbing: she was a mix of cynicism, self depreciation and loathing. He kind of knew that feel. But she was right: he was not totally interested in how she felt, he was only concerned with her safety. He couldn't find out why, but he cared a lot about that total stranger.

"I care." he lied. "I really do. I'm not like all of the other men, I..."

"You're a wizard?" she hissed. "That's what they all say. _I'm not like the other men, you can trust me._ That's what this man had said." Salazar knew she talked of her attacker.

It was so painful she was right. But Salazar really wasn't like the other men. He was decided to show it to her.

His hand carefully went to her cheek as she watched, completely frozen. He brushed the tears away and stroked the wetness from her skin. Then , slowly, his other hand came to her neck. He deployed it around her skin and clutched it softly. He felt her veins beginning to pump with fear as he pushed her back on the bed in a lying position. She had to obey, or it would hurt her more. The softer hand left stroking her cheek and rejoined the other in the mimicked strangling.

"I could do it." he said. "I could easily take your life right now, without even using magic."

She didn't even try to push his hands away. Her whole body was tense, and he wanted to know why. She was just looking at him with her dark blue eyes filled with fear but also courage. He immediately stopped his fake attack and let her go. She crawled to the top of the bed, still staring at him.

"But I won't." he said. "The last thing I want to do in this world is to hurt you. So don't tell me I am like all men, you would wound my pride." he was whispering now.

She said nothing. All she did was massaging her neck, clear from any mark of hurting like bruises or red stains. She was still detailing him like he had done to her a few minutes ago.

"This is not the best way to let someone trust you," she said, still far from him. "But I will trust you."

He was not watching her, but he hid a smirk. She seemed intelligent. And he was not saying this because he apparently had earned her trust easily. He could read it in her eyes. He didn't know if he was attached yet to her though, she seemed like she could be a friend of value as well as a strong enemy. He never chose the first path, always the second. But that night, he decided to change that old habit of his. He held out his hand.

"Salazar Slytherin." he said.

"Ro... Rowena Ravenclaw." she answered, blushing. She took his hand.

"Hmm... So, you are a lady? Are you the daughter of the well known lord Elric Ravenclaw?" he sarcastically asked.

"My father has disappeared a long time ago, he is no more well known..." she sighed. "And I am his only heir alive."

"Why are you not in your castle then?" he asked with eyes full of interest.

"I..." she hesitated to answer. "I ran away." she hardly swallowed.

"May I ask why?" he said more silently.

She didn't answer at first. Her fists were clenching then relaxing, but the subject seemed to be uneasy.

"Before he left I don't know where, or died, my father had one last will. He wanted me to marry a lord from northern Scotland that would have assured prosperity for our family for centuries. It was decided when I was still a baby, by that time he was in his thirties. Now he must in his fifties, and he must be looking for me. I don't want to marry him." her voice was trembling as she told her story.

Salazar was listening eagerly, drinking in every word and saving everything in a part of his head, like he always did. This could be very useful information, as well as a help to her. He didn't have the habit to do things for others, especially stranger. But he had the feeling that this young woman was a special person.

"And where are you headed to?" he asked again.

"I don't know where." she said. "I was looking for a place..."

"Which place?"

"I don't know! Any safe place, really. I have a project."

He was pleased with how she seemed to tell him things more easily.

"What kind of project?"

"I'm not going to tell you everything! I barely know you. And you tried to strangle me." she hastily eluded.

"I saved your life." he rectified. "And I want to know what kind of project you're having."

He evilly smirked.

"I'm not telling you. You already know too much." she said, her voice unintentionally coarse.

"Alright, I will wait." he stood up. "And... I had something of great value to my eyes to ask you."

"Yes?..."

"Would you... Look for your place while accompanying me and my friend, Godric Gryffindor, on our quest to find the deathly hallows?"

He grinned at her gasp of surprise.

"The... The deathly hallows? Really?"

"So, is it a yes, or a no?" he was fidgeting of impatience.

"I will come... See it as you want. Maybe you'll think I'm coming for my own safety since you seem to enjoy saving my life, you can think what you want. But strangely, I..." she erased the last bit of tears on her cheek. "I accept with joy, and relief."

"Good." he said. "Then I'll find out about your project." he was smirking again. Curse that, he thought, what a stupid smirk.

"You will only if I tell you." she answered.

They both looked at the window and saw dawn rising. They decided to leave early with Godric, to avoid questions on the body in the room with no memories, for example. Salazar went to Rowena's room with her since he knew she was still frightened of the man laying there. He helped her packing her stuff, though she was embarrassed by it and constantly muttered words of refusal. He gathered his own very rapidly and went to wake Godric. After quick presentations and a few explanations, they left. Rowena had taken the light grey horse that was hers. She seemed to love horses, and her mare seemed to like a lot Salazar's stallion. They rode in the cold morning, heading north again, and Salazar's head was filled with confused thoughts. He who had never been a friendly man, less inviting, had just linked himself with this stranger. He who didn't like to help, less to take no credit for it, had just did the complete opposite. He had tried to comfort this girl, and maybe he had succeeded. And she trusted him. This was a first. She also seemed to share similar views on Muggles with him, and that was what had triggered his interest at first. He also had enjoyed her flustered look as she had seen his bare chest get nearer from her when he had stroked her cheek. He had always had that effect on women. But he particularly liked to see her own reaction. Chasing these thoughts away, he tried to concentrate on the ride. It would be ridiculous for him to fall off his horse... But they always came back.

* * *

**This is how ends that second chapter... I hope it was not too bad since it was written in a noisy environment, it was terribly hard to concentrate. I am sorry for the waiting, but I have been on a trekking trip. Now my legs horribly ache, and I can barely walk. **

**As always, I hope you enjoyed this. I hope it's going too quick, tell me if you think so. I welcome reviews that help me to write, and I promise to make everything possible for that story to go on!**


	4. An Encounter with the Sun

**Chapter Three - An encounter with the Sun**

* * *

To Salazar's great displeasure, Rowena got along very well with Godric. They shared a lot of common knowledge, on Transfiguration for example. Rowena said she was an Animagus, and was wounded when Godric laughed. She replied to the promise that she'd show him one day. _Him_. Not them. Salazar got more and more tense as the days went on. He spied on them when they thought he was not looking. Once, he saw Godric try to tickle Rowena, and he must say he was very pleased with her reaction. She jumped away from him, then melted in a flow of excuses that were obviously bad lies. Salazar knew he shouldn't have felt that way, but he didn't care. As long as he was the one who had touched her more than his brother...

Maybe it was his fake strangling that had shocked her. Effectively, after thinking about it, it was not the best way to let her trust him. He had faked attacking her after she had just been nearly raped, for God's sake! He kept blaming himself and thinking this was stupid. But what could he do now?

At dusk, they arrived to a small village. It had small houses, and apparently small people too. Most of the houses were made of wood, few of stone, and everyone there seemed to be short and plump. People had friendly round faces with red cheeks and red noses, and the dominant hair colour was dark. Salazar kind of enjoyed the feeling of superiority as he walked past some villagers: he was much taller than them, thinner too, and he didn't even have to lift his chin to look condescending. Though it would have been better not to make enemies at their first moments there, he enjoyed passively dominating some people. It was easy, and undetectable.

Rowena, though, seemed to have noticed it. With a smirk, she walked faster than him, lifting her chin too high, making herself taller. He sighed at that poor impression of him and ignored her. He wondered if she had told Godric what he had done after he beat the man: did his brother know he was an asshole?

Suddenly, as Rowena wasn't looking where she walked, she bumped into a man. She fell in the mud and Godric quickly helped her to stand again, while apologizing to the man. With a grunt, he walked past them. But Salazar's heart had dropped in his chest. He knew that face. In fact, he knew it very well. It was the only face that floated in his dreams since that very night where he was saved by lady Gryffindor. It was him. Egor.

Salazar acted like he hadn't even noticed him. He was very good at that: hiding his emotions, even the most violent and painful ones. It was an ability he acquired after years of escaping into some nearby villages with Godric. He didn't help Rowena to get on her feet. He didn't look at Godric. He only bit his tongue, and strode to the inn they wanted to spend a few nights in.

His eyes stung. His hands were clenching. And when he addressed himself to the inn keeper, he seemed totally normal.

"We would like three rooms for a few nights." he said gruffly.

"I am sorry, sir," answered the plump man, "but I'm afraid we only have two left. But I'm sure you could share with your friend and let the lady sleep alone," he said, pointing at Rowena and Godric who had just came by Salazar's side.

At those words, Rowena hardly swallowed and tensed.

"Actually, I'm not bothered at all with sleeping with one of my brothers," she said, tapping Godric in the back discretely. Discretely, but enough for Salazar to see.

"Very well, very well. Do as you please. If you're eating there tonight, I'm also afraid we don't have any tables left. Maybe will you eat in your rooms?" the man asked.

"Perfect, we were about to ask!" said Godric, clapping his hands. "Come one fellows, night is falling and I could eat a boar."

They climbed the stairs.

"A whole boar?" said Salazar, eyeing Godric.

"Brother, don't underestimate me." answered his brother playfully.

They entered one empty room. Godric sat on the unique bed, and Rowena and Salazar both made chairs appear.

"So, Rowena, who do you want to sleep with?" asked Godric, with an air of already knowing the answer to his question.

"Well..." she was blushing. "I don't really mind, I just prefer not to sleep alone."

Salazar knew why she feared being alone in a stranger bed. He had even seen why. Internally disgusted by what he knew was coming, he said with a fake non-caring voice:

"You two can sleep together. I don't mind."

"Actually... I was going to ask you, Salazar." she said softly.

Godric's jaw dropped. "May I ask you why, my lady?" he asked in an intentionally wounded voice.

"Salazar is more quiet, Godric. Don't take it badly." she said as a poor excuse.

"Do I snore?"

"A little..." said Salazar, eyeing Godric playfully.

His chest felt suddenly warm. So, it was with him she had chosen to go. That was unexpected, and was a very pleasant surprise.

"I may have this room then, there's only one bed. Well the other room has only one too, but there are two places." said Godric with a sad look on his face.

As Rowena went out to get her stuff in the other chamber, Godric pulled Salazar at his side and whispered:

"Get your hands off her brother, right?"

Salazar was indignant.

"Are you thinking so little of me, Godric? I am not like you, jumping on every part of moving flesh I see. Don't you dare talk of me like that. I shall not tolerate it."

On these words he strode out of the room, leaving his brother with a poor composure on his face.

* * *

They had eaten well and decided to go to sleep just after finishing. Rowena and Salazar both left Godric's room in a slow motion. They were anticipating the night they had to spend in the same bed, and probably others were to come if they stayed longer in the village. Salazar knew they had to lie and say that Rowena was their sister, or the situation would be very much frowned upon. She was an unmarried woman, and she was very young. She had told Godric she had just turned eighteen before they found her. Of course they had to be careful of the image they were giving. And the last thing to do was to give her name. Instead, they gave Godric's most of the time.

Salazar pushed the door to the room open and let her in in a gentlemanly way. She carefully watched him and went in. He closed the door behind them, and locked it with a magical spell. Not only Muggles were dangerous, and he didn't want to be disturbed. He also wondered if Godric had done the same.

"Please... Can you turn around?" she asked in a little voice.

He didn't answer and turned around. She quickly stripped of her clothes and got in a white night gown. She tapped on his shoulder when she was done, though he already knew she was.

"Can I ask you the same?"

"Of course." she answered. She turned around too, and acted like she was disposing her stuff over a wooden desk even if it was useless.

"Done."

She actually thought he was. But when she looked at him she immediately spun the other way, blushing.

"Please tell me this is not how you're going to sleep."

"Sorry to deceive you..." he chuckled.

He wore no shirt, nothing. His chest was completely bare and though Rowena had already seen it once, it was in the dark. She had caught only but a glimpse. Now, she could see it in its splendour at the light of candles, and she had to admit it was not to her displeasure. She turned around again and slipped herself into the bed, trying not to seem too flustered.

"You can take all the covers for yourself if you want. I never sleep with some." he said, blowing the candles out.

"Me neither, I'll just make them vanish." she answered abruptly.

"Are you sure? The night is cold. And you're not wearing much."

"Yes, I am sure."

She took out her wand and made the covers vanish. She felt embarrassed to death, for two reasons: first, what she had done was not useful at all. It was showing off. She had unconsciously wanted to show him her good mastering of vanishing spells. And secondly, she always slept with a blanket. It was the stupidest act she had ever done, but her pride forbid her to go over her decision again. She awkwardly laid on the mattress and turned herself towards the window, where she didn't see Salazar.

She thought again about his topless appearance. His skin was rather pale and light, but didn't seem weak at all. He had slim muscles below his flesh, though he seemed thin while covered with clothes. He had two moles in his back, and one on his collarbone. Her lower belly had burned when he had bent over to depose his wand on the floor, since she had watched in every detail his back muscles twitching and moving during his actions. His body had perfect proportions, though he seemed to have a rather narrow pelvis. She was tempted to run her hand over his shoulder blades, but hopefully she resisted. She hardly closed her eyes and let herself drift into an uneasy sleep, tormented by the fresh night air and her shameful thoughts.

* * *

Salazar appreciated the way the fresh breeze made his skin shiver. He was laying on the stomach, looking away from the woman in her bed, but he had to admit it was a difficult situation to handle. On one side, he was glad Godric hadn't slept in her bed, but he also didn't feel at ease. She was so troubled by the slightest thing, and seeing her blush all the time made him react strangely. He had laughed to himself when he had seen her see him topless, and it give him great clue about her experience: if he was the first man she had ever seen without a shirt on, he thought she must have stayed in this castle of hers for a very long time...

He felt her shiver in her sleep and turned to her side. She clearly had lied on a whim, he didn't really know why. But she seemed sensitive to cold, and was stupid enough not to have kept the covers. He interiorly grumbled. It was a fool's stubbornness. He thought to himself it would be a better plan to let her die of cold, but he didn't really want her to leave him now. So, impulsively, he got closer to her and passed an arm over her waist. He slowly pulled her to him and gently laid her in his embrace. She was curled in him, and breathed a nice breath of comfort. She was cold, and he felt relieved to have procured her this warmness of his. He didn't want her sick for the next day... Though he had to admit he didn't completely dislike that moment. In fact, he appreciated it. He had rarely had a living and now warm body so close to him, he had never felt like protecting someone in that way. But that was what he was doing, now. Of course, he had been with women before, but they were barely muggle tools. He had never considered them but as a presence destined to satisfy his needs. He always left before falling asleep. So yes, Rowena was the first woman he ever held in his arms.

His hand, independent from his will, roamed on her hair. He discovered it was not so soft as he had imagined, not as silky, but he was reassured by that in a way. Rowena did not waste her magical talents in such a trivial matter as of her hair. He liked to touch them though, they were very thin and seemed as fragile as her.

When she squirmed in her sleep, he tightened his hold on her. She felt warm now.

* * *

Rowena did not know if she was dreaming or not. She was half-conscious, lost in a foggy sleep. But she knew someone was holding her, she could feel it.

She had faked moving in her sleep to find out more about that situation, and had felt the hold on her tighten. At that moment, her heart had jumped in her chest. She slowly had begun to remember that she was more than scared of sleeping alone in a stranger room, so Salazar slept with her... And though the realisation was slow, it struck her like thunder could strike a poor tree and burn it. Literally. She was burning. And she had noticed that the warmer she got, the hold on her gentled. With utter shame, she realised that Salazar had found out she was cold as an icebrick and had wanted to protect her from the cold. She was half deathly ashamed, half godly relieved. He had cared enough for her to actually touch her, despite her reluctance for touching.

Suddenly daring, still faking sleeping, she turned around in a clumsy way on purpose. She curled her arms on her chest and, by the same token, on his own chest. She felt him blench and tense at this sudden touch, then slowly fall back into relaxation. She interiorly marvelled at being able to touch his skin like that, like she had craved earlier in the night. She rubbed the back of her hand against him just enough for him to think it was a sleepy spasm. He was soft, and she almost gasped of surprise when she felt the thin line of hair that went down to his manhood touch her hand. There she completely stopped, paralysed and completely red. She was grateful it was night, so he couldn't see her reaction.

She felt him move slightly at her side, his warm body rubbing against her. His hand slowly made its way to her hair and began fondling in the dark river. Her pulse went dramatically up when she realised he was not sleeping, and she tried to lull herself to sleep again, but his presence forbid it. She knew he wouldn't anything to her though. He had morals and he was the one who had saved her...

Since the attack of the man, she had despised the touch of men. But she had needed to put her trust in someone as it was too heavy to carry alone, and out of weakness she had chosen the first person on sight: Salazar. Then, Godric. She had befriended the last one and saw that Salazar didn't completely approve this. A part of herself was thinking he was jealous, but it would be too good to be true. She preferred to ignore his glares, and keep talking naturally to Godric. He was a really good friend. But she had grown attached to Salazar even if they rarely talked. It was mostly looks and facial expressions, though his were hard to decipher, or were even non-existent. But she saw further than his mask, and saw something strong and great in him that she was beginning to drown in. And she knew it would do her no good to linger on illusions or obsessions.

Finally, and very unexpectedly, she fell asleep in his arms again, relishing on the feeling. Maybe it was the last time it was to happen.

* * *

What awakened Rowena was a high-pitched song from a bird at the window. She was so startled that she almost fell off the bed, but instead she rolled on the side where Salazar was supposed to be. Supposed, because he wasn't there any more. Rowena felt a twitch in her stomach. Did he leave because of her? Did he know she was not sleeping when he embraced her? She was the holder of a great secret by now, and she knew it was one that should not be revealed, that was to be kept secret in their mutual privacy.

Suddenly, she heard a loud knock on the door.

"Rowena? Are you up?" called the loud voice of Godric.

"Yes, I'm coming Godric!" she called back with a sleepy voice. "Leave me two minutes only!"

She dressed herself faster than she thought she could, and attempted to tame her hair. She could still feel Salazar's hands on it, and was ashamed that they were not that beautiful. A woman was expected to have long, soft silky hair. Hers was long, yes, but not soft and not silky. It was raven-like hair, she thought ironically.

She opened the door and at the second she saw his face, Godric took her in his arms.

"Ah, I missed you so much my sweet lady! Haste yourself, there is someone very special down these stairs that I want to present to you! I'm sure you two will get along very well!" he said joyfully.

Holding her hand tightly, he ran down the stairs with her following closely and almost falling. When they were downstairs, she could see sitting at a table Salazar, fully dressed too, not looking tired at all and not showing the slightest clue of what he had been doing last night. He was looking at her with well hidden predator eyes: intelligent, full of questions, and filled with something dangerous that Rowena couldn't identify. These were the eyes she wanted to sink in, and was in a way scared of.

Across from him was a woman that she had never seen. She had a round face, a plump and friendly figure, and Rowena found she had the right curves everywhere they were needed. She was very womanly and would be the one that children would demand to ask for food, stories, or love. She had blonde locks falling down on her generous breasts, and deep brown eyes full of kindness and bravery. Rowena felt a strange halo around that woman, as if she was the sun itself. She was looking at her kindly.

"Rowena," began Godric, a broad smile on his lips. "Let me present you lady Helga Hufflepuff."

* * *

**[AN: I'm going to make more official author notes now, since the others were messy and useless. Well that isn't going to change, but I'll just try to make things clearer. ^_^ **  
**This was a long chapter, not written at once. Since I don't have a beta reader, I can't see alone what needs to be changed, so I count on your precious advices. Yes, you. I hope this chapter was not too passive, I wanted to write something about the character's deep personality traits, since I always love to read that in stories. I also wanted to create a first body contact between these two, in a way that both wouldn't be very aware of what is happening. But that's a bit what happens, isn't it? Aah, love is like that.**  
**I am also terribly sorry, but as I'm going into vacation I might not be able to post for the next two or three weeks, it depends if I can find internet connexion. But the pro side is that I'll have the time to write more since I won't have internet, so I might very well post a lot at once! I thank those who read my fic and wish them a very good time at these holidays!]**


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